inside a weird mans head

a smoke filled room. torn sofas, pillows and a typewriter. people coming, people leaving. some make use of the typewriter. most don´t. at the end of the day he finds a piece of cardboard. strange things it says. he reads them to himself:

sowhatcanisaybesideswhatalazyfuckIamtakinganyreasonfordoingNOTthethingsIwanted todothismorningwhilelisteningtoillreputeandthinkingaboutmillionsofthingsbutnotreally imjuststonedandforsomereasonimstillwonderingaboutidontknowifyouhavetotellmewhy becauseireallycanexplainitformyselfbutsometimesitdoesntseemtobethatwaybutanyway inthismomentidontcarewhatastupidassholewontlistentoreasonexcitedtosee whereitleads.

“whereitleads” ? he took a deap breath. he was reminded of something but could not figure it out. he had seen something relating, but where… oh yeah there it was. simple and prosaic the message powerful the visual:

some listened some don´t. he did not know about that guy.

dfn